


How'd We Get Here From There?

by pherryt



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Anxious Steve, Banter, Bear - Freeform, Canon Divergent, Fluff, Frotting, Humor, M/M, Memories, Mutual Pining, Pining, Protective Bucky, Reestablishing Relationships, Skinny Dipping, Smut, Vacations, chase scene, handjob, mention of past HYDRA crap, post winter soldier, recovering bucky, sassy Bucky, they don't hurt the bear i promise, unorthodox use of brooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25441918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: If Steve had hopes of his life ever being normal, well, this little Alaskan vacation he and Bucky were on would have nipped that right in the bud.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Stucky
Comments: 25
Kudos: 100





	How'd We Get Here From There?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blue-reveries (hey_you_with_the_face)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face/gifts).



> This work was created after Blue showed me her masterpiece and i was immedietly intrigued! Of course, then i struggled, because it looked like the fic that was created for it should be full on, 100 % funny, all the time. and that... that's something i can't actually pull off.
> 
> but a mix of things? Sure, i can do that. when i finally remembered that _yes,_ i _am_ allowed to mix it up, the story just flowed right out! 
> 
> Blue, i hope this story does the picture justice and thank you for A) letting me play with it and B) being patient with me!
> 
> Thanks to [squadrickchestopher ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squadrickchestopher/profile) for the beta and [Magenta_Llama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magenta_llama/profile) for checking over the single russian word i used :D

Steve had not thought his life could get any weirder.

He was wrong.

From Erskine’s experiment, to the Red Skull and the tesseract. From waking up 70 years in the future and fighting aliens alongside a god, to the tesseract’s return and magic space portals with mind control –

So yeah, he thought nothing could surprise him anymore.

Then Bucky happened.

Again.

First it was finding out that Bucky was the Winter Soldier. Being on an assassin’s radar hadn’t even phased Steve other than to work out how to stay alive. Finding out that the assassin was his dead best friend from 70 years ago that had been brainwashed? That had been something else entirely.

They fought, Shield fell – with a little help from Steve and Co. – and Bucky disappeared from Steve’s life as suddenly as he’d reappeared.

But Steve wasn’t willing to let that happen again. He’d lost Bucky once, and it had nearly killed him. He wasn’t going through that again. Whatever Bucky had done, it hadn’t been his fault. Steve was going to find him and save him and bring him the hell home.

So Steve spent almost 2 years chasing a phantom, a ghost, all over the world, with the help of Sam and various Avengers at one point or another as they took turns keeping Steve sane until he finally found Bucky, right where he should have looked in the first place – 

Brooklyn.

Bucky had been there, in his and Steve’s old apartment, which was somehow still standing  _ and  _ empty after all this time. Steve had heard stories about the ‘renovations’ that happened there but hadn’t believed it. Then he saw for himself how almost nothing of his neighborhood had looked the same. The one (and only) time he’d gone out to his old ‘stomping grounds’ - as Clint had called it – had been depressing as all hell and Steve hadn’t had the heart to go back since.

Steve still didn’t know what drew him there. Some sense of nostalgia, or hopelessness, some way to feel close to Bucky again. He’d dragged himself up those stairs wearily, the building's foundations crumbling. Most of the doors stood open, or the doors were gone completely.

When he saw that his and Bucky’s apartment door was still there  _ and  _ closed, his heart had beat right out of his chest. Steve had approached, filled with both trepidation and excitement. When he got close enough, he could hear soft jazz playing, his nose catching a faint whiff of smoke.

Easing forward, Steve had carefully grasped the door handle, slowly turning it, slowly pushing the door open –

And Bucky sat on the windowsill, one leg propped up, long hair tied back, a lit cigarette dangling out of his mouth, a beat up paperback in his hand. It was so like one of the many memories Steve had of him before the war that for an instant, he was transported back in time.

Then Bucky had shifted, the light filtering through the curtainless window glinting off his metal arm and everything that had happened – Bucky’s death and resurrection, the fight on the bridge and the helicarrier, the vacant, dead eyed stare – all came rushing back to Steve and he had gasped, almost going to his knees.

“’Bout time you found me, punk,” Bucky had drawled, stubbing the cigarette out on his metal arm, but not moving to run away.

The next few months had been a whirlwind.

Convincing Bucky to go back to the tower, to get him checked out, make sure the brainwashing was gone, get him to therapy, and help him readjust to life as a normal person was… it was all too much and not enough.

Bucky was a seesaw. One day fine, another day not. The Wakandan Princess had visited and, with the assistance of Wanda, made certain no more booby traps had remained behind in Bucky’s mind.

“He’s strong, Captain Rogers,” Shuri had said. “Time would have done as much on its own, with his augmented healing factor. Of course, I realize that none of you wanted to take any risks, which is surprisingly forward thinking for a couple of white boys.”

Steve had flushed, but he couldn’t argue the point. He’d met too many entitled men who thought they knew best when they didn’t. They were almost always white.

“Now, if you can only convince the good Sergeant to come back to Wakanda with me, I might be able to do something about his arm,” Shuri had said.

She’d taken no offense when Steve had stammered out a “Maybe another time,” on Bucky’s behalf before disappearing into the invisible Wakandan jet that had landed on Tony’s roof.

To say Tony was jealous was an understatement. He’d drooled over the Wakandan tech the entire time Shuri was there and he sighed after the departing jet wistfully. When he turned away, Steve was sure Tony was muttering something about making his own invisible jet. Bucky stared after him, blinking, then said,

“He still owes us flying cars.”

It made Steve laugh, the disgruntled way Bucky said that, and he almost reminded Bucky that it had been Tony’s  _ dad  _ that had promised that -

Then thought better of the idea.

Still, Bucky had his good days, like the day Steve had found him in Brooklyn, and he had his bad days, too. Being in the tower didn’t seem to be helping the way Steve had hoped.

Bucky avoided Tony like the plague, guilt written on his very being every time he didn’t succeed, despite Tony’s assurances that he didn’t blame Bucky, he just needed time to process. He also tiptoed around Clint and Natasha – for what reason, Steve had not yet figured out, and maybe he never would. The three of them were pretty tightlipped, though there was a mutual respect among them.

Then there were the callouts.

Every time Steve left the building for a mission, he came back to Bucky being a wreck.

Bucky didn’t talk about that either, just like he didn’t talk about the nightmares that had Bucky climbing into Steve’s bed each night, or how he shook in Steve’s arms.

The tower, Steve painfully concluded, was not the healthiest environment for Bucky - in particular - to recover from his trauma, despite all its advantages. It held too many reminders in the shape of people and danger and constant surveillance, even if JARVIS meant well.

It also meant that Steve was handy whenever there was an Avengers call out, and whenever he came back, even if he was unharmed, Bucky was a mass of nerves.

His nightmares were always worse on those nights and when  _ Bucky  _ didn’t sleep,  _ Steve  _ didn’t sleep.

Rinse and repeat.

“A vacation,” Clint mumbled around a half-eaten slice of pizza. “That’s what you two need. Cap, you been non stop since getting out of the ice and Barnes has been through the wringer. You two  _ need _ a vacation, like, _ stat.” _

Once voiced, Steve couldn’t let go of the thought of a vacation. An actual, honest to god, vacation.

He couldn’t think when he’d ever had time off just to relax. When he was younger, he’d been sick, but that hadn’t been relaxing. And during the war, leave had been far and few between and never lasted more than a couple of days.

As an Avenger, he was always on call.

_ A vacation. _

The more he thought about it, the more he wanted one for him and Bucky. Of course, there was the slight problem that he realized he had no idea how to  _ have  _ a vacation and neither did Bucky.

Tony’s ideas were too public and too extravagant. Natasha was at as much of a loss as Bucky and Steve. Clint’s idea of a vacation was to hole up in his room with pizza, coffee, his dog and some stupid show he was obsessed with.

“I hear Alaska’s nice this time of year,” Sam said without looking at them. “Nothing ever happens there. Real calming. Perfect for a couple of old fogies.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed at Sam. Steve hoped he wouldn’t have to step between them. They’d had some weird antagonistic relationship ever since Bucky had come back to the tower. Steve wondered if Sam was still holding the incidents with the steering wheel and the torn wing against him?

And yet, it worked. They seemed happiest when they were snarking at each other, Bucky almost relaxing in a way that reminded Steve of the days before the war with a sense of longing so strong it was nearly overwhelming.

“What’s in Alaska?”

“For normal people, plenty. For you?” Sam gave Bucky a once over. “Meh. I guess you could go camping.”

Camping sounded like a  _ wonderful  _ idea. Away from all this press of people, the onslaught of technology Steve still couldn’t quite get the hang of, going back to more simple pleasures and replacing old memories with new ones. Camping had been a necessary evil during the war, one that was usually wet, dirty and uncomfortable, not to mention straight up filled with paranoia. They never knew, a hundred percent, whether or not their campsite was going to be safe from the Nazis.

Doing it for fun instead? Better prepared and without the danger? 

“Oh no,” Bucky said. “Don’t even think it, punk. I am done with living rough.”

“It won’t have to be rough, Buck,” Steve said. “Just think of it – beautiful scenery, quiet, nobody to bother us.”

In the end, they compromised. A cabin in the woods by a lake. A few fishing poles in tow, and hiking gear too. Steve planned to bring sketching supplies, and Bucky was planning on some books (and Steve had a StarkPad set up for Bucky, for when he inevitably ran out of something to read.  _ Thank you, Tony Stark) _ .

Which brought Steve back to  _ now. _

Tony handed Steve two phones and Steve recoiled.

“No, Tony, the point of this vacation is to relax. I can't be on call right now.”

Tony waggled the phones at Steve. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it - but that’s not what this is.”

Steve stared at Tony suspiciously. “And what is it?”

“Okay, so hear me out,” Tony said. “You’re not on call, so these phones, they can’t even  _ get  _ calls. I know, I know, what kind of crazy talk is that? See, I know you’re a workaholic - 

“Takes one to know one!” Clint shouted from across the room. He was hanging out on one of the ledges Tony had spaced around it, completely at his ease.

“Can it, Katniss!” Tony bellowed back. “And if we  _ could _ call you, you’d be sitting there waiting for it instead of enjoying yourselves. But - bear with me, Cap - but you and Barnes  _ are  _ going out in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere. No cell reception, barely any civilization. What if something goes wrong? Something happens and  _ whoops!  _ You can’t call for help?”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re both enhanced, Tony. I think we can handle any trouble we run into.”

“Sure, sure,” Tony waved dismissively. “But  _ what if _ ? I thought you were a boy scout. Barnes, back me up here!”

“He was never a boy scout,” Bucky said absently from where he sat on the couch in a lazy sprawl, sitting up on the back of it with his legs propped on the seat cushions. He was busy tossing popcorn across the room and into Clint’s mouth, much to Clint’s delight. That, at least, had gone well. After a few months, the tension between Clint, Bucky and Nat had worked itself out, for the most part. The tension between Bucky and Tony, however…

It was a work in progress. At least they could be in the same room together without Bucky bolting.

“Right, of course not,” Tony sighed and lowered his voice. “Look, HYDRA’s still out there, and they gotta be looking for your boy. The two of you can take care of yourself, sure, but they  _ know  _ what he’s capable of. They  _ made  _ him. They won’t send anything less than an army after  _ both _ of you. And you’re gonna need backup. Take the phones.”

“No ones gonna look for either of us in the frozen north,” Steve pointed out. 

It was true, he was sure of it.

Steve and Bucky had had enough of the cold, being frozen under the ice or repeatedly frozen and kept  _ on  _ ice. Steve had mentioned in more than one interview about how much he hated the cold these days and HYDRA would have to be stupid not to think that Bucky didn’t have bad associations himself. Therefore, anyone paying the slightest bit of attention would  _ know  _ that both Steve and Bucky had good reason to avoid going anywhere cold if they could possibly help it.

Hell, all of that was part of the reason he’d agreed to Alaska, of all places, to begin with. Then again, considering how weird his and Bucky’s life had been, Tony was probably right. Better to be prepared and not need it, then need it and not be prepared. So Steve, as much as it galled him to, conceded the point and took the phones, noting how Bucky’s back had stiffened just a smidge. 

Because despite Tony’s efforts, Bucky had heard every word.

It took over a week to get out of the city - and  _ not _ because they couldn't get there in the blink of an eye. In fact, Tony was insisting on flying them out there, ostensibly to help with their anonymity, but also so that if the worst  _ did  _ happen, if Steve and Bucky  _ did  _ wind up in a situation Super Soldier Serum couldn’t handle, then rescue wouldn’t be flying in blind. No, the delay was because Doom had attacked during one of the planning sessions.

Steve hadn’t been able to keep himself from going out with the team, as was usual, and Bucky had rolled his eyes.

Tony was right. Steve was a workaholic. Seriously, was he just  _ supposed  _ to ignore the bad guys?

Bucky pulled him out of the elevator and pushed Steve toward their rooms. “Yes, once in a while, it’d be really nice if you did. Now, go take a shower. I don’t know what Doom made his bots out of, but you smell worse than a skunk.”

Steve protested, but it was a token resistance and Bucky - who knew him so well, even after all these years, despite HYDRA messing with his head - knew it.

But finally - finally - they were on their way. Clint was actually flying, because Pepper had commandeered Tony, and the trip was, well, not quiet, because it was Clint, but at least more relaxed than it might have been with Tony around.

Hopefully, Hopefully, keeping Bucky and Tony away from each other for a little bit would help them both gain some equilibrium and perspective, and make it easier for them to be friends later. Steve was sure it could happen.

With the speed of the quinjet and Clint’s expert piloting skills, they were touching down in the front yard of a fairly isolated cabin after first doing a flyover so that Steve and Bucky could see the lay of the land and which way the closest civilization was.

The ramp eased down and Steve hopped up on his bike, driving it off the jet and parking it next to the rustic cabin. Bucky shook his head and followed suit. The motorcycles had been a sore point. 

“Man, Stevie, I know you love your bike, but it’s the middle of the fucking forest and we’re supposed to be laying low. Why would we want to bring them?”

“For emergencies, Buck,” Steve had answered. “Besides, if we  _ do  _ get attacked, bike’s’ll be faster than going on foot, and safer to drive through the woods, if it comes to that.”

Bucky had relented and Steve couldn’t help the pleased smirk on his face as he got off the bike. Maybe after they’d settled in, he’d go for a small ride. Bucky’s bike rolled in alongside Steve’s, Bucky  _ still  _ rolling his eyes at Steve in exasperation, but it was fond, and Steve basked in it.

“You guys want any help unloading?” Clint asked from the foot of the ramp.

Steve shrugged. “Sure, if you want.” 

Between them all, they were done in no time. Clint didn’t have super strength but he was no slouch either. Then again, he  _ was  _ an Avenger for a reason.

Steve set the last box down and followed Clint back out to the jet, leaving Bucky to explore the cabin. Clint paused on the ramp and looked around with a frown, then back to Steve.

“You sure you guys are gonna be all right out here?”

“Yeah, I mean, no one knows we’re here except the team and what could possibly go wrong?”

Clint groaned. “You do  _ not  _ say things like that, Cap! You’re just beggin’ for trouble when you say that shit.”

Steve paused. His superstitious self, the kid who was raised on stories of the old world, wanted to agree but he shook his head. “We’ll be fine. Thanks for the help.”

Nodding, Clint knocked on the side of the jet twice. “Cool. Call us when you want a pickup or more supplies,” he said, then disappeared onto the jet. Steve backed away as the ramp closed and he turned, walking back inside the cabin.

Bucky was nowhere in sight, which meant he was probably inspecting the rooms. The cabin had two bedrooms, much as Steve had wished…

He sighed.

Steve wondered how long it would take to just … reconnect with Bucky. He got it, Bucky was recovering… not just his memories but his autonomy, and in no way did Steve want to jeopardize that, to take Bucky's choices from him or pressure him in any way.

But he didn't know what to do. Hopefully, away from the hustle and bustle of the tower, and away from life and death situations, they could find themselves again. If not as lovers - did Bucky even remember that part of them? It had been so new, before the war, and it wasn't anything the history books had ever known, kept private just for them - but at least as friends.

Bucky came back out as Steve was unloading the kitchen boxes filled with food Clint had helped with. Overhead the sound of the quinjet departing almost drowning out Bucky's quiet footfalls. He'd always been quiet, always graceful, but now he walked with an almost predatorial grace. 

“It's a good deal more normal for what I've come to expect of a Stark,” Bucky admitted. “Not nearly as lavish as I'd been afraid of. Tony’s standards slipping?”

Steve shook his head. “No, I read him the riot act before I even allowed him to start helping.”

Bucky snorted. “I’m surprised he listens to you. He’s so… impulsive and… not a little bit arrogant, though I guess he’s got some cause to be. He's so much like his old man.”

Bucky turned somber at the words and Steve paused. “Buck -”

Cutting him off before Steve could finish, Bucky crossed to a window, saying, “It’s a lot greener than I’d expected. I thought Alaska would be, y’know, all snow, all the time.”

Steve sighed and let it drop. Bucky still wasn’t ready to talk about it, he’d just have to be okay with that.

He was afraid that would set the tone for this mini vacation they were on, but then it was time for dinner and it was just like old times again, Bucky edging Steve out of the way with good humored remarks about his cooking and taking over or setting Steve a task that “even you can’t fuck up, Stevie.”

“Screw you, Buck,” Steve said with a laugh. “I’ve been learning! I know my way around a kitchen now. Helps we don’t have to make do without the essentials.”

“Oh don’t remind me. Making a cake without eggs?” Bucky chuckled. “I don’t miss that.”

Quieting, Steve asked. “Is there anything you uh, you  _ do  _ miss from those days?” he dreaded the answer but…

Bucky hummed, stirring the pot on the little stove. “I mean, memories’ still a little spotty. I guess… my mom, and ‘Becca, mostly. Still got you, at least.”

“Yeah, Buck, you still got me,” Steve said softly.

Still stirring, Bucky stared off into the distance, his eyes far away. “Dancing. It ain’t the same. I miss that. And everything's so much noisier.”

“Well, it’ll be quieter here,” Steve assured him.

Bucky shot him an unimpressed look. “Doubt that, the way you snore. Doubt that’s changed much, serum or not. Hell, probably made it worse.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t snore.”

“Sure you don’t, Stevie. Now go on, stop staring at my handsome face. Those potatoes won’t cut themselves.”

They fell into a rhythm easy enough. It was a mix of the old days, and their new ways at the tower, and something else entirely new. Except there was way less fighting. Steve still had energy to burn though, so he insisted on early morning explorations, which Bucky went along with just to become comfortable with the surrounding area.

More than once, as they went about the woods, Bucky looked around him oddly. “I could swear this place was familiar,” he said. “We ever come out this way before?”

“When would we have done that?” Steve asked, ducking a low hanging branch. “We were too poor, my health not much better, and traveling too far wasn’t a good idea. Then there was a war, and we went straight to Europe.”

Bucky shook his head. “I dunno, it’s just, I swear I‘ve been here before.”

“There’s nothing out here, Buck. Besides. it’s just trees. There’s trees all over the world. The woods are always gonna look pretty much the same, the world over, most of the time.”

Bucky shot him an exasperated look. “You’re not much of an artist with an attitude like that. The trees are  _ not  _ the same the world over.”

Steve smiled and clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Whatever you say, Buck.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and Steve let his smile widen into a shit eating grin. Bucky shoved at his shoulder. “Punk.”

* * *

The following week was fairly uneventful. Steve and Bucky continued to hike, cook together and bicker in a way that was familiar, that left a warm ball of feelings in Steve’s chest. Steve sketched - and if an inordinate amount of those sketches wound up being  _ Bucky,  _ well, it wasn’t like he was showing Bucky his sketchbook anyway - while Bucky read.

Sometimes Steve would wake up in the middle of the night, uncertain as to why, but when he left his room, he’d find Bucky in the kitchen with a hot mug of whatever he’d been in the mood for, staring out the window. Or he’d find Bucky outside, sitting on the step up into the cabin, having a smoke. 

Bucky was looking better, but it was obvious he still wasn’t sleeping as much as he should. Steve could only imagine the sorts of nightmares that must be keeping Bucky awake. Steve had his own nightmares, filled with grotesque visions of what a person could do to another person, with guilt ridden doubts and what ifs. That wasn’t even counting the nightmares where he was sick again, unable to breathe, always afraid the next winter would be his last. Steve had plenty of nightmare fodder, that was for sure. But Bucky… 

He had  _ decades _ more of some of the worst experiences to have bad dreams about. The weight of that… God, Steve wished he could help him shoulder some of that weight.

Steve slid down to sit next to him, knocking their shoulders together. “You ever wanna talk about it?”

Bucky shook his head, still staring out at the trees. “This place doesn’t feel funny to you?”

Steve looked out into the woods, squinting against the shadows. Finally, he shook his head. “I got nothin’, Buck.”

“I feel like we’re being watched…” Bucky said. He stubbed his cigarette out carefully and stood, brushing off the seat of his pajama pants. Steve tried not to stare.

Bucky caught him looking and Steve turned away quickly, clearing his throat and standing up. He thought Bucky might have hesitated, for just a second, before he went back inside the cabin. 

Steve stared into the forest for a few seconds more, trying to catch whatever it was that was bothering Bucky, but nothing.

Maybe Bucky’s nightmares were getting the better of him? Leaving him paranoid? Steve couldn’t blame him in the slightest, but he sure wished there was something he could do to help Bucky.

But… you really can’t help someone who doesn’t  _ want  _ to be helped, Steve thought, remembering guiltily all those times Bucky had tried to be there for him and he’d pushed him away, sick of not being able to do for himself.

The next day Steve convinced Bucky to go down to the watering hole - “I think they call it a lake these days, punk,” Bucky said with good humor, all traces of whatever had woken him up the night before gone.

That was a good sign, Steve decided. “Jerk,” he ribbed back.

Bucky paused. “Hey, we even pack bathing suits?”

Steve blinked. “Huh, I don’t think we did. But not like anyone’s gonna see if we go skinny dipping.”

Did he imagine the blush rising on Bucky’s cheeks before he shifted and his hair fell to hide it? “I’d say somethin’ about you bein’ a rebel an’ all, but you always were, weren’t you?” Bucky was laughing, at least, so Steve let himself relax a bit. Not too much though, because now the prospect of seeing Bucky buck ass naked for the first time since… since…

Steve was pretty sure his mind just flatlined. His mouth was definitely dry and oh, this was the worst idea ever, wasn’t it? How the fuck did he get himself  _ into  _ these situations?

He was still wondering that an hour later after they reached the lake after much tromping about in the woods, Bucky stopping to peer around himself perplexedly more than once, slowing them down just a bit.

Once they’d made it, though, Bucky had set about determinedly stripping his clothes off and Steve’s mouth went dry, again, while his stomach did a little flip. He couldn’t help his eyes roving down Bucky’s back; from the filled out shoulders and the play of his muscles, down to the swell of his ass and those thick, thick thighs.

Bucky had been a gorgeous sight before, but he’d, uh, filled out. Just a bit. Since the last time Steve got to see him  _ like this. _

“You coming or what?” Bucky threw over his shoulder before practically diving into the lake.

Steve nearly whimpered. Not yet he wasn’t but oh, if he had to continue to put up with the torture of a very, very naked Bucky - never mind that it was his own fault - he very well might be. 

Quickly shucking off his own clothes, he ran into the ice cold water with a strangely morbid sense of relief. Bucky’s head broke the water, his face lit up in a smile and Steve lost himself to the play of the sunlight over the water over his skin and his metal arm. 

And then Bucky dunked him.

Jerk.

Steve came back up spluttering to find Bucky grinning. Steve narrowed his eyes at Bucky in mock anger. “Oh, it is  _ on.” _

It was music to Steve’s ears; the delighted laughter, the splashing and spluttering as they tried to outdo each other, the sort of goofing around Steve had never been able to do as a child, the sound of it seeming to bounce around and echo off the nearby trees.

Hours later found Steve and Bucky both pleasantly tired, laying on the shore of the lake, on the blanket they’d brought with them, using the sun to dry off, a towel modestly placed on each of them.

This was, Steve thought, the most relaxed he’d seen Bucky in a long time. He couldn’t stop staring at him, Bucky’s eyes closed as the warmth of the day spread over them.

“Why don’t you draw a picture, Stevie, it’d last longer,” Bucky drawled.

Steve jerked, sitting up in a rush, heart pounding at having been found out. “Shit, I’m - I’m sorry, Buck-”

“What the fuck are you sorry for?” Bucky rolled over, the haphazardly draped towel threatening to fall and give Steve quite an eyeful, like he wasn’t already getting an eyeful. “We... “ Bucky hesitated. “We were a thing, once, right? Or… I mean, I know my memory is shot, and all the history books say I was a ladies man, but I thought I remembered...” he worried his lip with his teeth. “I can’t be so hideous as all that, that you don’t want to look, cause obviously, you do. So either I'm remembering wrong or… after, after all the things I've done, things I'm not proud of… I guess I’m sayin’ that I get you don’t want to be with me, after all that - “

“Jesus, Bucky, no!” Steve exclaimed, rolling to get to his knees, to grab at Bucky’s shoulder and stare at him earnestly. “Fuck. That wasn’t you! None of that was  _ you.”  _

Bucky let out a small sound and Steve’s heart broke.

“Then why - “ Bucky’s voice broke and he inhaled, pulling away from Steve and Steve’s heart clenched. 

“Bucky,” Steve said softly, reaching for him. “I was trying to respect your needs. I want to be with you - _ fuck _ , do I ever - but I’m not going to be responsable for taking away your choices, ever again. If you didn’t remember… if you’d changed so much… if  _ I _ had changed too much… I didn’t want you to just be with me out of a sense of obligation.”

“Never,” Bucky said vehemently. “God, Stevie, I love you! It’s been eating me up inside keepin’ it quiet. I wasn’t sure where we stood anymore.”

“Wherever you want, Buck,” Steve said. “I mean that. I won’t push, but I’ll be here if you wa -”

Bucky surged forward and cut Steve off with his lips and Steve’s breath stuttered, his hands fluttered before falling on Bucky’s shoulders and he let himself fall back, let Bucky’s weight take him to the ground and press down against Steve. Steve’s eyes rolled with the headiness of the moment, of the taste of Bucky on his tongue as they kissed, at the feel of Bucky covering him.

It was a long time before they came back up for air, pressing their foreheads together. The towels covering them for modesty had long since fallen aside and Steve wriggled with a happy little groan, feeling Bucky hard against him.

Bucky was looking down at him in wonder, in pure disbelief and absolute joy and Steve was sure it was reflected on his own face. He reached for Bucky, cupping his jaw and thumbing over his cheek gently. Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into the touch, his metal hand coming up to cover Steve’s and hold it there. The metal was sun warmed and the touch was light, in sharp contrast to how powerful Steve knew it could be, how dangerous.

How dangerous Bucky could be, when he wanted to be, though he never had.

Because this was  _ Bucky _ , and Bucky had always touched him reverently, carefully, worshipping Steve in a way Steve hadn’t ever thought he deserved. He’d missed this, he’d missed  _ Bucky _ , so damn much. Was this really happening?

“Are you sure?” Steve asked softly. Bucky opened his eyes and nodded, his eyes half lidded, his pupils blown.

“God, yeah, Stevie,” Bucky answered, then ground down against Steve and Steve shuddered, his fingers flexing on a gasp as Bucky continued to rock their erections together.

Still wet from the lake, hard and leaking, their way was quickly slick. Steve pulled Bucky back down into a kiss with the hand on his cheek, his other snaking between them to pull at their cocks. Bucky was braced above him with one hand, the metal one eventually letting go of Steve’s fingers and sliding down his arm, squeezing at the bicep on the way up before he finally tangled his fingers into Steve’s hair. With a small tug, Bucky was tilting his head for a better angle and Steve was eager for it, pushing up against Bucky, into Bucky, his hand moving quickly between them.

Bucky groaned, his lips slipping away from Steve’s to mouth their way over his jaw, down his neck - 

“Ah, Buck!” Steve gasped, arching his neck, baring it for Bucky’s hot mouth, his molten tongue, both blazing trails over Steve’s skin as he kissed, sucked and licked every inch of Steve’s throat. Steve’s hand fell away from Bucky’s face as he moved, and he latched onto Bucky’s waist, squeezing the sweaty muscle with a groan before sliding downward, gripping Bucky’s ass, urging him on.

Everything was pooling together fast, too fast, pleasure spiraling higher and higher with each small nip, with each downward thrust. Steve’s hand sped up, tugging, pushing, pulling them together. His and Bucky’s cocks were hot and heavy in his hand and Bucky was moving relentlessly against him, pushing Steve down into the ground. 

When Bucky’s lips fell slack, panting against Steve’s neck and his hips stuttered, Steve knew he was close, and he wasn’t far behind. He twisted his wrist and Bucky shuddered and stilled with a cry, his come coating Steve’s hand and stomach, cock twitching in Steve’s hand and that was it for Steve.

Steve shouted as he came, fireworks going off behind his eyes as he arched up into his own grip. Bucky’s hand covered his, easing him through the rest of his orgasm as it threatened to overwhelm him until Steve fell back against the blanket, drained but blissed out.

They were quiet a moment or two as they caught their breaths, then Bucky said, voice rumbling against Steve’s collarbone, “Well, I think I've discovered an advantage to bumfuck, nowhere.”

“What’s that?” Steve asked, curiously.

“I’m wondering how loud you can actually  _ get _ ,” Bucky said. “Now’s we don’t have any disapproving neighbors to worry about.”

Steve laughed breathlessly, feeling a weight lifting from his shoulders. They were gonna be okay, he was sure of it now. Not that being  _ together  _ had anything to do with that, but if Bucky was okay with letting Steve get this close to him, to be this  _ intimate _ , to joke and snark as they’d been to boot - well, Steve was no therapist, but those all had to be good signs, right?

“I’m looking forward to that,” Steve said. “Now get up. Someone made me all sticky.”

Bucky groaned, levered himself up and leaned back on his heels, giving Steve a hungry, appreciative once over that made Steve blush. “Hmm… you are a bit of a mess. Guess we’re gonna have to clean you up.”

When he leaned back down and licked up Steve’s abdomen, Steve’s brain went offline completely.

Eventually, though, after a second round involving more lips and tongues and swallowing that was far hotter than Steve had expected, they finished off with another dip in the lake before drying off more quickly with the towels and trekking back through the forest to the cabin.

The trip back seemed to take twice as long, and neither Steve - nor Bucky, apparently - could help stopping to press the other up against a tree for long, passionate kisses, or brief, teasing caresses that made Steve’s cock twitch under Bucky’s hand. 

“Buck,” Steve groaned, as Bucky backed away from him, leaving him hard and needy against the tree. “You’re killin’ me, here.”

“I want a bed, Stevie,” Bucky said.

“Then stop  _ teasing _ ,” Steve complained, reaching for Bucky’s pants. 

Bucky smirked and glided back out of reach. “You started it, you punk.”

“No, I didn't,” Steve protested. “You’re the one who kissed  _ me _ back at the lake.”

“Yeah, and we finished it,” Bucky agreed. “Twice, even. But you're the one who tried to drag me behind a tree and have your wicked way with me.”

“You’re doing it too,” Steve pouted, even as Bucky started walking again. He watched Bucky walk, watched the flex of muscles showing up nicely under clingingly wet clothes, then shook his head and hurried to catch up.

They were about halfway back when Bucky's back tensed up and Steve froze, casting his eyes around them. “What is it?”

Bucky didn’t answer, but he turned on the spot, brow creased, glaring into the trees. Finally he sighed and shook his head. “I dunno. Nothing. I guess 70 years as a HYDRA puppet is just making me paranoid. C’mon.”

The teasing kisses stopped after that. Bucky’s tension, his need to get back to the relative safety of the cabin was too high for Steve to fuck with, so he followed along quietly, keeping an ear bent to try and catch… something.

_ Was _ Bucky being paranoid? Who knew where HYDRA had brought him in his time as the Soldier? Maybe it was nothing, a memory that kept popping up and tripping into the present. But what if there really  _ was  _ something out there?

Belatedly, Steve realized they’d left the one way phones back at the cabin. If HYDRA  _ was  _ out here, that could be a mistake. A big one. 

Dinner was strange. They danced around each other in the kitchen, but if Steve had thought they’d pick up where they left off, he’d been wrong. Bucky kept glancing out the windows every few minutes as they cooked. He angled himself at the table to keep the window in sight, and after they’d changed in their sleep clothes - with Steve wondering how today would affect the upcoming night - when they sat on the couch with their respective books - sketchbook, in Steve’s case - Bucky couldn’t relax.

Whatever good had been done at the lake had been, at least, partially undone by whatever had gotten under Bucky's skin on their way back, and Steve didn't know how to reassure him. He didn’t want to promise everything was fine, not when he didn’t actually know it would be.

A sharp crack of lightning, followed almost instantly by thunder rolled over the cabin suddenly, breaking the tension when Steve jumped and fell off the couch, bumping into the little table beside it on his way down. Subsequently, their mugs of hot cocoa bounced and rolled, hitting the floor and spilling the remnants of liquid everywhere as Steve yelped indignantly.

Bucky started laughing, till tears sprang up in his eyes. Steve glared at him as he climbed back up onto his feet, avoiding the puddles of liquid pooling on the floor, but there was no heat behind the glare, and he could see that Bucky knew it. Steve was just grateful that Buck’s pensive mood had broken.

“Oh Thor, I needed that,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for Steve. Steve pretended to be disgruntled but let Bucky draw him in. Rain pounded on the roof of the cabin as the sky opened up. “This whole _ day _ has been… I needed this. Thanks for dragging me out here, Stevie.”

“Thor, huh?” Steve asked. “Changing religions are we? What would your mama say?”

“Hey, he’s the god of thunder, isn’t he?” Bucky asked, tucking Steve in against him. Steve immediately koala’d himself around Bucky and Bucky’s fingers carded through Steve’s hair.

Steve drifted against Bucky, breathing in the scent of him, listening to the reassuring heartbeat, strong and loud, that not even the rain could drown out at this close proximity. The whir of the metal plates in his arm as he shifted to hold Steve a little more firmly. 

He didn’t notice when the rain stopped, when Bucky’s fingers stilled in his hair, or when they fell asleep.

He  _ did  _ notice when the door crashed in, crunching under the weight of something heavy. Instinctively, Steve rolled from the couch and to his feet, Bucky doing the same and coming face to face with - 

A bear?

An enraged bear with a very familiar looking cybernetic arm - just sized up to fit a  _ goddamn bear, what the fuck? _ \- and a very unbearlike, red, mechanical eye. It roared and lunged for them, Bucky cursing in Russian.

“Yebat!” Bucky uttered, “I _ knew _ it!”

“Knew  _ what?  _ Bucky, what the fuck is going on?” Steve shouted as he dodged a swipe from the bear.

“I  _ knew  _ these woods were familiar,” Bucky shouted as he rolled out of the way. He ended up in the kitchen and the bear stood, momentarily confused as it stared between them, head going back and forth, like it was deciding who the best target was.

“Are you saying,” Steve asked slowly, “That you  _ know  _ this bear?”

“Sasha,” Bucky said shortly. The bear grunted, tilted its head at him, the red eye whirring in a way that Steve thought meant it was zooming in on Bucky. Then it grunted again, turned away from Bucky and growled, lunging for Steve.

“Hey!” Steve yelled. “Why am  _ I the _ threat and not you?”

“He probably recognizes me,” Bucky said. “Shit, Steve, I don’t wanna hurt him.”

“Are you  _ kidding  _ me right now?” Steve shouted as he had to dodge the bear again. The bear crashed into the wall of the cabin, the wall breaking under the impact. It turned with another growl, seeming only to get more enraged. Steve thought frantically of how to even fight the thing off without hurting it and froze.

Then a broom hit it from behind and the bear - Sasha, Steve suddenly remembered, feeling the urge to giggle at the ridiculousness of this, of him and Bucky in their pajamas, fighting a bear with a broom, of all things! - turned, shoving at Bucky with his head. Bucky skidded back and whacked it over the head with the broom again. 

He wasn’t using his full strength, Steve realized, or else the broom would be broken. Fuck, Bucky was  _ serious  _ about not hurting the bear.

“Get out of here, Steve!” Bucky yelled.

“Not without you!” Steve shouted back. Bucky should know that by now, he'd never leave Bucky’s side again, never leave him in danger like he had before.

“You’re cornered, and if you fight back, you might actually hurt the poor thing. Get out of there and get on your fucking bike. I’ll be right behind you.” Bucky swiped the broom at the bear's face, covering its eyes. The bristles of the broom hit Sasha’s nose and it sneezed. 

Steve jigged to the side, ducked under the arm - the other one, not the metal one, he wasn’t stupid - and made for the door, before backtracking and heading to the bedrooms.

“Where the  _ hell  _ are you going?”

“If you don’t want to hurt the bear,” Steve called out over his shoulder, “Then I think we should call in support. Sleepy gas until we can figure something out -”

Bucky grunted and then suddenly was sprinting after Steve. “You get the phone, I'll make a door. She’s got the exit pretty well blocked off.”

“There’s no way you could - “

Bucky pushed past Steve and proceeded to break the window. 

“I’m not fitting through that -”

“Get. The. Phone.” Shifting the broom to his other hand, Bucky grasped at the window frame with his metal arm and pulled, the wood splintering. Then he kicked it once, twice, and the gap from the window was enlarging right before Steve’s eyes. Steve stood there, frozen for just a second before he got his ass in gear and grabbed the phone from the drawer of his nightstand. He dove through the hole in the wall already thumbing the phone on, Bucky close on his heels as they rounded the cabin and saw the bikes. Steve tossed the phone at Bucky. 

“I’m driving, you call the team,” he said, swinging his leg up and over the seat of the bike. “See if you can get a Hulk tranq or something. And get on.” 

Bucky swung up, fumbling between the broom and the phone when the bear crashed through the wall beside them.

“Fuck!” Steve shouted and started the bike, getting it into motion. Behind him, Bucky yelped and cursed as the bear gave chase, one hand grabbing frantically at Steve’s waist.

“Tell me you didn’t just drop the phone!” Steve yelled over the roar of the bike. He was grateful they’d explored the nearby woods enough that he knew the best paths to take the bike down without decapitating themselves. 

Bucky made a muffled sound, like he was talking around a mouthful of something. After a couple of minutes, his other hand came around and shoved Steve’s phone into his pocket.

“If I had, it would have been your fault,” Bucky said, leaning forward enough to hiss in Steve’s ear. “Also, if I get splinters in my mouth, I'm blaming you for that too.”

“You kept the broom?” Steve shot over his shoulder. “Why the fuck - what good is the broom going to do?”

“It gives me reach,” Bucky said with what felt like a shrug. “Hold on, I'm turning around.”

“What, are you crazy?”

“I’m in love with  _ you.  _ You even have to  _ ask  _ me that?” Bucky said, the bike shifting dangerously enough that Steve had to compensate as it wobbled while Bucky turned around, his back pressed flush against Steve’s. Steve almost stopped breathing as he imagined Bucky’s powerful thighs squeezed tight around the motorcycle to keep his seat.

“Yebat, Sasha’s  _ fast _ ,” he thought he heard Bucky mutter.

“What?” Steve asked in alarm.

“Drive  _ faster _ , Stevie!”

“I’m going as fast as we  _ can  _ for this terrain,” Steve shot back. “Until we reach a real road -”

Sasha roared, and Steve swore, gunning the bike faster. It was insane, it was stupid, it was dangerous and a part of him was laughing in exhilaration as he eyed an approaching bank and tried to remember how far the drop was.

He swerved around a rock and yelled, “Brace yourself,” just as he hit the bank and skidded down the other side. The trees thinned and in the moonlight, Steve could see a flat patch of ground - was it the road? No, it couldn’t be, they hadn’t gone that far yet, but he’d take advantage of that so he could open up a bit more.

Behind him, Bucky was ranting, “Go to Alaska, they said… It'll be  _ calm _ there, they said…”

Steve felt a giddy laugh escape him as they swung onto the patch - it wasn’t a road, but it was beaten down enough to work - and he gunned it. If he could just stay ahead of Sasha, give their backup a chance to get here, maybe they could get out of this with all  _ three  _ of them unscathed.

“Did the team say how long till they got here?” he shouted, then winced when he heard a bristling whack. Fuck, how fast  _ was  _ that goddamn bear if Bucky had resorted to hitting it with the fucking broom again?

The whine of an engine answered Steve’s question before Bucky could. Steve watched as two figures dropped out of the jet as it swung by. There was no place for it to land here, but Iron Man flew out of the back while it skimmed low enough for Hawkeye to land and roll on the ground, coming up in a crouch with his bow already out and aiming. 

Joined by his teammates, Steve swung the bike in a slowing arc to face the rampaging bear as Bucky shouted.

“Don’t hurt Sasha!”

“You’re telling me cyborg bear has a  _ name?”  _ Tony groaned as he flew past them. Whatever his feelings on the matter, he restrained from shooting at the bear, but flew around it in dizzying circles, making the bear stop and swivel about in confusion, then rear up to swat at Tony like a cat playing with a string. “Barton, you wanna hit the thing before it tries to eat me?”

“You think it can get through that tin can you’re wearing?” Clint remarked. An arrow whizzed past Steve and Bucky, straight for Sasha.

“Um, it’s got a cybernetic arm, and a cybernetic eye. I wouldn’t put it past HYDRA - or whoever fucked with this thing - not to have given him a cybernetic jaw and who knows what else.”

“HYDRA,” Bucky stated flatly as he dismounted the bike and strode towards the bear. The arrow had hit true, of course, but if it was supposed to have tranked the bear, Sasha didn’t seem to have gotten the message. She had slowed, but was still awake, and still trying to swat Tony out of the sky.

“Of course it was,” Tony sighed. “Always messing with the natural order of things. It wasn’t enough to fuck around with humans, they gotta mess with poor, dumb animals too?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky crooned at it, edging closer. 

Steve’s heart leapt into his chest. “Buck, be careful.”

“I told you, Stevie, she knows me,” Bucky replied. “She won’t hurt me, will ya?” 

Sasha blinked at him dazedly and Steve thought the arrow was finally taking effect. She dropped down to all fours and shuffled, then snuffled as Bucky got a little bit closer, slowly but surely.

Steve and Clint stayed where they were, out of range, and Tony flew up out of sight, just hovering, ready to step in if needed. The bear yawned and blinked again. Bucky touched Sasha’s nose, stroked up and between the eyes and the bear… settled. Whatever had set the bear off to begin with, the tranq and Bucky seemed to be counteracting.

“She’s really a sweetheart,” Bucky said softly. “Poor thing was used to experiment new tech on. She got the prototype before they upgraded my arm. They put a chip in her head too, I think, used her like a guard dog.” 

He scratched at her ears and the bear's eyes closed. Sasha lay down with a thump and pressed her head into Bucky, no longer the mad bear that had busted up the cabin or chased them through the forest.

“Guard dog?” Clint said from Steve's side. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Birdbrain is right,” Tony said, his voice hushed. “If the thing -”

“Sasha,” Bucky cut in.

“Sorry, Sasha. If Sasha’s a guard dog, or bear, then that means there’s something out here,” Tony pointed out.

Steve’s blood ran cold. The picturesque woods suddenly took on a sinister tone. “Oh god…” he choked out. “HYDRA’s been out here all along and me and Buck just wandered right into their hands!”

Now he was really, really glad he hadn’t turned down Tony’s offer of those emergency phones.

“Actually, I don’t think so,” Bucky said. He turned and scanned the woods. “They wouldn’t need a guard dog if they’d stuck around. On the other hand… it’s a base someone could try to fall back to at any point. HYDRA  _ is  _ hurting after all.”

Tony finally landed, halfway between Bucky and the bear, and where Steve and Clint stood. “Sounds like we just got ourselves a mission. You know where this base is?”

Bucky nodded. “I think so. I knew this place seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it till Sasha found us.” He turned. “That way, I think.”

“Well, looks like we’ve got some HYDRA hunting ahead of us,” Tony said. He shifted, then suddenly, “Not sure you two grandpas trying to act out the Marx Brothers with Sasha here are dressed for the occasion though.”

“What?” Steve asked, just the littlest bit confused. He knew who the Marx Brothers were - had even managed to catch a reel down at the theater a time or two - but what did that have to do with anything?

Bucky snorted. “Jesus… do people still watch the Marx Brothers?”

“Hey, the ‘shot an elephant in my pajamas’ schtick is a classic,” Tony protested. “Seriously, you two look  _ adorable.  _ Fuzzy pink bunny slippers on the world's greatest assassin? The polka dotted pajama pants topped with a cute, snoozing kitty? I need a picture. For posterity. JARVIS? Take a picture.”

“I hate to break this up,” Clint said, pointing at the bear. “But what do we do with sleeping beauty here? I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave her here and we can’t exactly ship her to a zoo.”

Everyone turned to stare at the sleeping bear, and Bucky hovering over Sasha protectively, his arm slipped around her neck. Tony flipped his faceplate up.

“You said there’s a chip in her head?”

Bucky nodded. “Think so. Couldn’t exactly program her with the chair. I got no idea how it works, though.”

“Hmm…” Tony said thoughtfully. “Y’know, we got a Hulk proof room in the tower. Maybe we could spruce it up for her while we figure out how to help her.”

“Really?” Bucky perked up at that, eyes lighting up. “Seriously?”

Steve watched the exchange with a fond little smile. This vacation hadn’t gone as planned - he certainly hadn’t planned for a HYDRA bear to attack them - but it looked as if he was getting  _ nearly all  _ the Christmas wishes he could want: Bucky and him working on getting themselves back to where they’d been, and Bucky and Tony talking without one of them running for the hills or looking guilty as fuck.

The nightmares probably wouldn’t go away. And they’d both still have bad days - hell, the whole team did - but it was progress. It was  _ good  _ progress.

As Tony and Bucky bickered about how to get Sasha onto a jet that couldn’t land and get it back to the tower, how Hawkeye would be on standby with another trank in case she woke up before they got back, as Tony radioed in for backup to HYDRA base cleanup…

Steve couldn’t stop smiling through it all.

* * *

**Bonus scene**

Steve watched Bucky playing with Sasha in the little environment Tony had created for her in the Hulk room, with a little help from a few experts he’d flown in. As with Bucky’s trigger words, the chip in Sasha’s head hadn’t been so easy to take out, but finally Tony had admitted he needed a little help and they’d called in Shuri.

“I could have done it myself,” Tony rushed to say. “Only, I tend  _ not  _ to work on tech with living things without extensive testing first and I really don’t think this should wait.”

They’d already seen the proof of that. Sasha could go from playful and loving to rampaging in a mere second, the chip in her brain sparking, prodding her into a rage. 

Thankfully, Shuri had agreed to come, saying it would present a challenge, and under the watchful eye of her brother and the Dora Milaje, she had flown to the tower. Sasha’s chip had been removed in less than an hour while Tony looked on a little jealously and Bucky had paced back and forth in front of the glass wringing his hands like a worried mama.

He didn’t stop pacing till Steve had taken his shoulders and wrapped him up in a hug. Bucky turned, buried his face in Steve’s shirt and muttered. “I hate this. I hate HYDRA. I hate how they take anything they want and remake it into something else. She didn’t deserve that.”

“Neither did you,” Steve said gently. “But that’s over now, for both of you.”

Now, hours later, Shuri and Bruce stood beside him as they all watched from the safety of the other side of the glass. The environment Tony’s experts had planned for Sasha was rich. It was natural, practically a full garden with trees and even a pool that didn’t  _ look  _ like a pool. It had been changed from the stark, empty room into something of beauty.

Bruce shook his head. “I always thought of this room as a last resort, a sign that the other guy had gotten out of control, went too far and did something I would regret. I was afraid of this room, afraid of what I must have become to have to resort to...  _ this.  _ I understood the need to have it, but I hated it _. _ But to see it like  _ this _ …”

Shuri nodded. “Sergeant Barnes  _ did _ ask if we could take her back to Wakanda, but Sasha would not have been happy there. It would be too warm for her and also, she would have no playmates. She would have been so lonely.”

Steve chuckled. “With Bucky visiting her on the regular, and the bots Tony is already designing for her, I don't think she'll be lacking in company.”

“She’s going to have a good life here, I think,” Shuri said. “Sergeant Barnes is a good man, whether he believes it or not.”

“Thank you,” Steve said earnestly, watching Sasha and Bucky tumbling together, the wide smile on Bucky’s face, “For all your help. With Bucky  _ and  _ with Sasha.”

“Pfftt,” Shuri said, with a dismissive little wave and a twinkle in her eyes. “Piece of cake. Next time, I expect the Avengers to bring me a challenge.”

Eventually, Steve was left alone to watch Bucky and Sasha. Sasha finally seemed to tire out and she plopped down right where she was, yawning. Bucky reached over and scratched at her head, then down her back for a little bit before finally leaving the Hulk room and joining Steve.

He was grinning ear to ear, his hair was a wreck and his clothes askew, sweat drying on his skin and Steve just stared at him in awe, at this beautiful, kind man that was still here, and still the gentle, caring soul Steve remembered. Maybe Bucky had a few more rough edges than he used to but then, Steve did too..

It all worked out in the end.

He passed Bucky a bottle and waited for him to finish guzzling it down before pulling him into a kiss.

“Happy?” he asked Bucky softly.

“Yeah, I am,” Bucky answered. 

“Good,” Steve said, pulling Bucky into another, long kiss before dragging Bucky off to bed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Marx Brothers :  
> the Marx Brothers Movie “Animal Crackers” came out in 1930, so Bucky and Steve could very well have seen it. Relevant for the scene with Groucho as Captain Spaulding. “One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I don't know.”
> 
> ALSO  
> [Rebloggable Tumblr post here](https://pherryt.tumblr.com/post/624368116435189760/howd-we-get-here-from-there-marvel-post-winter)


End file.
